Spirit
by ImaginaryWonderland
Summary: She died 6 months ago, Dean finally understood the pain his brother went through when he lost Jessica. Only she was still around, watching over his shoulder, keeping him safe - and he had no idea that she was with him through everything, through the blood, sweat and tears.


_People ask; what it's like. What it's like to be dead. Or at least, you hear people ask what it's like. And it's nothing like anyone could imagine, it's like screaming at a two-sided mirror, you see them and they have no idea you've been with them the whole time, but you have. Every time they think they've been alone, all the times when they have felt nothing but bitter loneliness, they are none the wiser that you have been their metaphorical shoulder to cry on, whether they realised it or not. It hurts more than you can imagine. Seeing the people you love in unbearable pain and not being able to do anything - it messes with your mind. Not that I haven't learned to cope with it, which I have to a point. But there's no way of becoming immune. It's almost like you can feel the hurt radiating off of them in waves and it's all transferred to you, and you hope that it at least takes away some of their pain. But that's all it is… hope. We thrive on hope. Hope that someday we will be completely at peace. Hope that we all will finally be fully content. In most cases, that's true - not me. There's something keeping me here, I know exactly what it is, why I don't want to move on, and I refuse. I refuse to believe that this is it, I could have gone months ago, God could have taken me against my will - but there's that magnetic pull keeping me here. That unexplainable feeling that I have a purpose, even as a so called 'spirit'. He'd never admit it to anyone, but I visit him in his dreams, on occasion. Partially so he never forgets how to feel, but most times, as strange as it sounds, to keep him sane._

"You hear that?" Dean asked his brother as they drove down the empty highway, brows furrowed as Sam looked up from the numerous papers in his hands with a small smile on his face.

"If you mean the deafening sound of AC/DC then yeah, I hear that."

"Appreciate it, Sammy." He'd clearly forgotten his last thought, much to her dismay, and moved on to a different one. "Hey, you ever," he looked to see if he was paying attention, "wonder what it'd be like if-,"

"If they were still here." Sam finished for him, seeing the pained look on Dean's face that seemed to worsen as he finished his sentence, "I think we wouldn't have been so reckless as we are now. I don't think I'd have come with you, Dean. If Jessica were alive."

"I figured. If **she** were alive,"

"It's okay, I get it." Sam interjected before he could finish, he knew how Dean got once he started. Truth be told, he hasn't said her name since the night of her death. Sam was surprised he even spoke about her, it being the first time he had.

"When are we gonna get something back, Sam?" his eyes were trained on the road ahead, "when are we gonna get cut some slack? I don't know about you, but all I've seen is death and that's not the way I thought I'd turn out." Dean chuckled to himself, "at least I ain't been wasted yet."

"It's just the way things are, it's a dirty job - someone's gotta do it."

Dean gave Sam a small smile and a sideways glance before returning his eyes back to the road with a grimace on his face, little did he know, she felt his words, if only he could feel the hand she was resting on his shoulder.

* * *

She and Dean were in that same car, the Impala, he driving while she sat with her legs pulled up to her chest as she looked at him with a small smile on her face.

"What?" he asked with a curve to his lips, he knew it wasn't healthy to look forward to his dreams as much as he did.

"You know I'm always here, right?" her dark brown hair fell into her eyes as she tilted her head to the side, onto her knee.

"Of course I do." The quite tone of his voice betrayed him.

"I'm serious, Dean." His face scrunched up in pain at the sound of her saying his name, it'd been so long. Suddenly the whole scene had changed, and they were both sat at her old home in Kansas, on that couch he surprisingly missed. "You don't understand yet," her face was pressed into the crook of his neck as his arm was wrapped around her shoulders, "but you will. I promise."

**A/N: Just throwing some ideas around my scatter brain, don't mind me. I already have a couple of chapters for this, just thought I'd post a snippet to see what people think^_-**


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